Commentary: On Bob Seger

I am on a long and lonesome highway west of Saginaw,
Mich., when a voice comes wafting through the speakers: “On a long and
lonesome highway/ East of Omaha.” The voice is raspy and deep. It’s
punctuated by the same goddamned saxophone hook—over and over and over.
The music, paired with the bumpy highway, makes my stomach ache. I cover
my ears and plead for it to stop. I want to jump out of the speeding
car. I am 12 years old.

I hate Bob Seger. His
voice is like the brown note to me. His songs are embedded like burs in
my psyche. “Turn the Page” is the tip of the iceberg. His scratchy
squeal on “Night Moves” haunts my nightmares. The ever-repeating guitar
hook on “Mainstreet” is never gone from my head. Every time some asshole
puts “Old Time Rock and Roll” on a jukebox, my immediate impulse is to
punch him.

In Michigan, Bob
Seger isn’t just some classic rocker with a bunch of hits. Even to say
he’s a god doesn’t cut it. If the Dalai Lama, Moses, Patrick Swayze,
Jesus and Gandhi combined genes and started hammering out cheesy classic
rock, that divine hybrid would rank two tiers below Seger. In the
snowmobile track-laden forests of the Upper Peninsula, the wind whispers
“Beautiful Loser.” On the decimated streets of Detroit and Flint, “Like
a Rock” serves as a rallying cry. Seger is the region’s Boss. And if
you don’t agree, you’re asking for trouble.

So
you learn to deal with it—you keep your mouth shut, causing this strange
sickness that makes your guts burn. The back of that minivan was my own
personal Ludovico treatment: The same horrid sounds now cause stomach
pains and helplessness every time I ask some middle-aged barfly to
please turn off the Seger.

And lo, here Bob goes—on the roooooooooad
again, hitting Portland and probably drawing every Michigan transplant
(except one) to the Rose Garden. Classic-rock stations are already
saturating the airwaves with his hits. And, once again, I’m trapped in
the back of that van, just waiting for it all to stop. Escape is a mere
fantasy.

SEE IT: Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band play
the Rose Garden Arena, 1 N Center Court, with Joe Walsh, on Saturday,
March 30. 8 pm. $45-$97. All ages.